Why I shouldn't like videogames that much
by GhostCarAd
Summary: Inspired by WittyShenanigans Bioshock story. Rated T for slight language. I own nothing.  "I opened my eyes, astonished. I was in the city of Stillwater."
1. A Nasty Shock

**_Okay, now, first I want to say that what gave me the inspiration to this story was WittyShenanigans's story "So I got this game for Christmas" about Bioshock. This originally was going to be a TES IV: Oblivion fanfiction, but since they don't have this category here, I'm going to make this a Saints Row 2 fanfic._**

**_I absolutely DO NOT OWN anything here, except for my character Allan, okay? I think I also don't own my Saints-leader character "Jason Traps", since he's technically a THQ character. This is merely a fanfiction. Any similarity with real life is only coincidence, and ONLY (except by the fact that the Saints leader in this story is in fact my Saints Row 2 character, but that's the only thing)._**

**_I hope you like it ^^_**

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><p>My name is Allan Johnson. I'm a normal teenager from Pasadena. Nothing too much special about me, really. What do I like? A lot of things. Movies, comics, books... but what I like the most are videogames. I probably know every single game there is on Earth. I own a PS3, a Xbox 360, a PC, a Nintendo Wii, a Dynavision, probably every console that exists. My games? Well, I have an entire room for them. Hundreds of games on dozens of shelves. What can I say? I collect these since I was five.<p>

Most people think I'm rich, but really, I'm not. Like I said, I collect these games and consoles since my childhood. Considering I'm seventeen now, it's a lot of time. I'm only an average boy from Pasadena.

Anyway, this was a sunny sunday afternoon. Most people were swimming at the pool, or playing basketball at the sports court, but me? I was sitting in front of my TV, in my apartment. Why, you ask? Well, you see, I was excited for the launch of one game since last month, and it was Saints Row 2. I'd completed the first one eleven times (I've counted it). I absolutely LOVED Saints Row. It was my favorite game, followed by Bioshock, and there was NO WAY I was going to let the second one pass by.

I bought it yesterday, but haven't tested it yet (which I was gonna do right now) and the game was now in my Xbox 360 tray. Since the game wouldn't read, I removed the CD, cleaned it on my purple hoody and put it back on the tray. Yes! It read it! Okay. But then the menu wouldn't appear, I ran my hand through my blond hair.

"C'mon!" I mumbled, pressing the Xbox menu button. but it didn't appear also. Since this happened before, I didn't suspect anything, so I got to the electric outlet and tried to remove the cable. It didn't want to come out as well.

"What the hell..." I pulled the cable harder. After a few seconds, the cable did come out, but also gave me a nasty shock. So I fell down, unconscious.


	2. A Not So Warm Welcome

**_Well, here is chapter 2. Again, I own nothing :)_**

**_PS: In this story, the Saints Row 2 storyline will be a lot different from the game, okay? Just to let you know._**

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><p>"Rrrrghhnn"... I mumbled. My head was hurting. I was lying face-down on something that was hard, cold and rough. It felt like rock. I lifted my head, opened my eyes and looked down. It was paving. I was lying on a sidewalk.<p>

"Was the shock hard enough to throw me out of my apartment?" I thought, standing on my knees. No. That wasn't my street. There was something familiar about that place. I just didn't know what it was. But it definitely wasn't my street.

A lot of people was passing by, staring at me as if I was crazy or something. "No wonder" I thought. "I was lying on the floor five seconds ago." But also... I didn't know that people. What place was that? Where was I?

I rubbed my head. People still looked at me as if I was an alien, so to avoid those looks (and also to know what place was that), I walked in a dark alley. I wondered why was it so dark. Then I looked up. It was nighttime.

"What the..." I muttered to myself. It couldn't be. It was three o'clock, in the afternoon. Something about that was wrong.

I continued to walk down the alley, now faster. The alley ended in a vast parking lot in the open.

I stopped walking. There was no point in it. I had absolutely no idea where I was.

"Hey you!" A shout came from behind me. I turned back. A guy dressed in a yellow jacket, with black details and black running pants was standing in front of me. He carried a katana on his back, and was wearing a pair of sunglasses. "This ain't no place for a Saint! What are you doing here?"

"What did he just call me?" I thought, staring confused at him. "Sorry sir" I answered, clumsily. "But that's exactly what I wanted to know. I mean, I have no idea why I'm here."

"Oh, you have no idea!" He mocked me. "So you probably have no idea on why you are wearing a purple hoody, eh?" He pointed at my chest. I looked down to my hoody.

"I don't know, I get any clothes in my closet in the morning" I said, starting to walk back, as he was slowly coming toward me. "I-I didn't even pay attention when I got this hoody. I swear."

"Yeah? Unfortunaly for you, you should have chosen your clothes more carefully, filthy Saint!" He put his right hand inside his jacket. When it came out, it was carrying a handgun. "I don't have mercy on little rats who like to spy on the Ronin territory!"

"Ronin?" I gasped. What on Earth was a Ronin?

He charged his gun. I knew I should run and get behind a cover, but I just couldn't move. He pointed the gun at me. I knew I was lost. I couldn't even close my eyes. I just kept there, staring at him.

Then, I heard a gunshot. And fell to the ground. But... wait, I wasn't dead... so who...

I looked to the guy with the yellow jacket. He wasn't carrying his gun anymore. In fact, his pistol was on the ground, two meters away from him. He was staring at his hand, astonished.

I looked to the right. Standing some meters away from me and the yellow jacket guy, was a giant man. He had probably the size of Chewbacca, or was even bigger, I couldn't tell. He was wearing a red polo shirt, one large wristband in each wrist, cream-colored slacks and red and black biker boots. His arms were fully tattooed, just as his face. He also had some piercings on his face, and had a tribal mullet brown hair. He had big, full eyebrows, and small eyes. He reminded me of a bear. A big, tattooed bear.

The giant man was pointing a gun towards the yellow jacket guy, who apparently now saw the bear-man too. He was looking astonished at my apparent savior.

"Since when are you helping the Saints, Maero?" Asked the yellow jacket guy, in a mocking tone.

"I'm not helping those dogs." Answered the giant with a deep, menacing voice, whose name was apparently Maero. "But this kid isn't a Saint."

"Heh" The yellow jacket guy smiled. "What about you, Maero? What are you doing in the Ronin territory?"

"What I'm doing here is none of your business" Maero answered. "Now get out of here before I blow your head."

The yellow jacket guy gave Maero a mocking smile, turned around and ran out of the alley. The giant man turned to me while putting his handgun on his belt, and covering it with the shirt.

"Are you okay, kid?" He asked me with his deep voice. I couldn't talk, so I just nodded. "Those damn Ronin rats, they attack everyone that is wearing purple clothes." He said, helping me get up.

"Wh-what just happened?" I gasped. "Who was that guy? And... who are you?"

"Well, it's very clear to me that that filthy Ronin mistook you with a Saint and wanted to take you out." He said, then he pointed to my hoody. "Are you crazy, kid? You don't wear purple in here, unless you want to get shot by a Ronin or a Samedi."

"What IS a Ronin?" I asked him. "And what the hell is a Samedi?"

He looked at me, confused.

"Why, two of the four most powerful gangs around here, of course."

"Gangs? In Pasadena?" I said. He looked at me as if I was crazy.

"Pasadena?" He repeated, looking as confused as I was. "Kid, you're in Stillwater."


	3. Hello, Stillwater

_**Sorry about this chapter being so short, you guys, but my writer's block is really slowing me down... :(**_

_**The next one will make up for it, promise! ^^**_

_**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own here is my first-person narrator. I don't own anything else.**_

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><p>"Stillwater?" I said to the man, confused, and shook my head. "No, no it can't be. I was at my apartment in Pasadena five minutes ago."<p>

"Well, this ain't Pasadena, kid." He replied, solemnly. "And I think you'd better get out of here as soon as you can. As you must have noticed, I don't think you would last two hours in him, especially if you're dressed in purple."

I looked down at my hoodie. Really, what was this guy's problem with it?

"What's wrong with it?" I asked, defiantly. He shook his head in disappointed disapproval.

"Wearing purple means you're with the Saints," He explained, crossing his arms. "and being with the Saints means you get shot."

Saints? Oh God. Please tell me this _wasn't_ what I was thinking it was, the reason for me to end up there. No, I dismissed the idea. I was overreacting. It was a coincidence, for sure. Stuff like this didn't happen outside movies… Right?

"How did you know I wasn't a Saint, then?" I asked.

"A wimp like you? With the Saints, really?" He replied casually, and I stared at him.

"Gee, thanks a lot." I said. He shook his head again.

"This isn't the point." He said. "You have to get home right now."

"Yeah, I know that already, but there's a problem," I replied, looking down at the ground and putting my hands in my hoodie pockets. "I don't have any idea of how I got here, and as such I don't have any idea of how to get out."

He looked at me, as if waiting for me to say this was all a prank, and when he got no response he breathed deeply.

"Really? You don't know how you got here?" He asked, skeptic, but then he must have noticed I wasn't lying. "Okay, I see this calls for more… serious measures. Come with me."

He started to walk away, and when he noticed I wasn't following him (because I was way too confused), he stopped and looked at me in annoyance.

"You comin?" He asked, with impatience.

"Where to?" I asked, not sure if I should really go with him.

"To the Brotherhood's hideout." He told me as if it were obvious. "Unless you wanna stay here and wait for the Ronin to come back."

I hesitated for a minute, and knew this was a terrible idea, but it was the only one I got. I sighed, and ran up to him. We got into his car (a gigantic, red monster truck, mind you) and he started to drive down to what I assumed were the docks.

Turns out it were. He stopped the truck on the cargo docks, next to what looked like an abandoned or slum warehouse, with walls covered in tags and the ground covered by used car and truck tires. The building was surrounded by red trucks and jeeps, and some guys with weird mullets and tattoos, dressed in red, were lying against their trucks or the walls, chatting and drinking cheap beer.

Next to a particularly big truck, a guy in a red jumpsuit was kneeled down beside one of the wheels, apparently messing with the screws or something (I'm a noob when it's about cars.) Maero opened his door and signaled at me for me to do the same. We jumped down and out of the monster truck, closing the doors behind us. Maero made a signal with his head indicating for me to follow me, and I did. We started walking towards the guy with the jumpsuit, and Maero gave him a heavy pat on his shoulder, startling him.

"Hey, Donnie." He greeted the guy. "How's Billy's truck going?"

"Pretty well." The guy called Donnie replied. "Should be ready tomorrow." He then looked at me, and signaled at me with his head. "Who's the Saint kid?"

"He's not a Saint." Maero replied. "It's just a confused kid who doesn't know how he got here."

Donnie looked at me in disbelief, and then sighed.

"Now you're adopting kids with amnesia, Maero?" He said, sarcastically, smiling. "Good luck with that."

"I didn't _adopt_ him." Maero said in a intimidating tone. "And stick to what you're supposed to do. You don't have to know anything that doesn't involve our trucks."

"Lucky me" Donnie said sarcastically and got back to working on the truck. Maero and I started to walk towards the warehouse.

"Sorry, but where exactly are you taking me?" I asked Maero, struggling to keep up with his pace, since his legs were much bigger than mine, and as such he walked way faster.

"To meet the gang." He replied simply. I was sure, from this point on, I was really down on my luck.


End file.
